


Totally, Completely

by sarahyellow



Series: Flagellate Universe [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Cock Cages, Cock Warming, Communication, Diapers, Dirty Talk, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, Gags, Heavy Bondage, Helplessness Kink, Humiliation kink, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Prostate Milking, Self-Kink Shaming, Sensory Deprivation, Sex Toys, Sleep Sacks, Straight jackets, Sub Bucky Barnes, Total Power Exchange, kink and love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 21:09:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15849411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyellow/pseuds/sarahyellow
Summary: Bucky was a degenerate pervert and so was Steve, but he’d thought he’d had a pretty good handle on whatkindof perverts they were. Not entirely, it would seem.





	Totally, Completely

Bucky spends a whole four days being mad at Steve. He’s not a brat by nature, especially since they started doing their whole 24/7 schtick, so he tries hard to keep the level of his displeasure hidden. Instead of biting remarks or disobedience he just tries to avoid Steve, lingering in lonely corners and huddling at the opposite end of the couch, glaring at the floor instead of Steve, embracing tight-lipped, sullen silences and grunts instead of verbal answers.

Steve allows it, since (even though he’ll never admit it) he does feel guilty. Bucky’s _his_ , but Steve’s still overstepped a boundary, even if he hadn’t meant to. He’d had a cup or two of Thor’s mead, had found Bucky’s browser history and, unable to help himself, had gone to town investigating the porn that Bucky liked to watch. He’d thought he’d known what he would find, and for the most part he had. Bucky liked whips and floggers and paddles, chains and handcuffs and collars, bossy dominant partners and pliant, submissive partners. 

But he also apparently liked straightjackets and sleep sacks, cock cages and sounds, fist mitts and obstructing hoods and _diapers_. Steve had been shocked, and that’s not something he thought he could _be_ with Bucky anymore. Bucky was a degenerate pervert and so was Steve, but he’d thought he’d had a pretty good handle on what _kind_ of perverts they were. Not entirely, it would seem.

He knows he has to ask him about it, but given that he feels incredibly guilty for violating the one smidgeon of privacy Bucky’s actually allowed these days, Steve puts the inevitable confrontation on the backburner. Four days after Bucky walked into the living room and caught Steve sifting through his personal online porn collection, Steve makes them Bucky’s favorite meal for dinner and serves it to a still-sulking Bucky on the couch. Steve, having agonized about how to make this go well (or at least not disastrously), decides to take a seat on the floor and use the coffee table to eat off of. This places him lower than Bucky, which is a start. He puts the television onto some inane program about UFOs and sets the volume to very low. Background noise. He eats his pasta and thinks about what he’ll say first. He doesn’t expect Bucky to come around right away.

“So, I’ve been thinking about it a lot, since Monday,” he says lightly, intonating the words as innocuously as if he were remarking on the weather. “And first off I know I owe you an apology.”

Bucky pauses in his eating, fork held mid-air for a moment before he continues. He doesn’t say anything or look Steve’s way, but Steve can tell that he’s listening. There’s no pissy grunt or shift to get off the couch and leave the room, so Steve takes that as a silent _go on_. He does. 

“I’m sorry I violated your privacy like that Buck. It was wrong of me and you didn’t deserve it.”

Bucky huffs quietly, and Steve knows it’s his way of keeping himself from saying something like _damn right_ , out loud.

“I’ll have to do something else special for you, coming up, to make up for it, but for now I want to talk to you about what I saw. I want to have a conversation about it. Can you do that with me?” Again, Bucky doesn’t speak. Steve can tell from the pinch on his face, from the light color on his cheeks, that he’s embarrassed. Steve’d figured that much. Bucky’s the one in their relationship who has no shame in bringing up what he likes or wants to try. Steve’s the one who constantly works things out of proportion in his head, who kink-shames himself. So the second Steve realized that Bucky had been fantasizing about this… stuff, had been watching this kind of porn, and hadn’t brought it up to him? Well he’d known straight away that he must be embarrassed of it. “You might be surprised to hear that I’ve already seen most of that stuff,” Steve tells him—again, mildly. He’d had quite the abrupt and all-encompassing education in all things kink back when he’d first discovered Bucky, out in the city being beaten to a pulp. He’d watched _all_ the porn, indiscriminate and ignorant as to how to filter a search. “So you don’t have to explain what any of it actually is. I know.”

For the first time, Bucky looks over at Steve. His eyes are narrowed and they flick around nervously, but he looks at him, at least. “Okay,” he says, another unspoken _go on_.

Steve sighs. “Well obviously we haven’t done any of that. I don’t have anything like that in the dungeon.” He purposefully uses Bucky’s term of ‘dungeon’ in a tiny show of openness. He wants Bucky to see that he’s being open-minded, right now; that he’s going to try to see this from Bucky’s point of view and hopefully give him what he needs. That’s been Steve’s life-purpose, these past few years. Just doing anything and everything to make Bucky happy. He’d give him the moon, if he could. Short of the moon though, he’s made due with the whips and chains stuff. 

“We have a hood,” Bucky points out, referring to the padded sensory-deprivation hood that’s never made it out of the drawer it lives in. 

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Yeah that we do have. As for the rest of it…” he watches Bucky’s face pink up a little further, and hurriedly interjects, “You don’t have to be embarrassed, Buck.” Bucky snorts softly. “I mean I understand if you are and you can’t help it, that’s your emotion. But Just know that I don’t think anything bad about it. I just want to understand. I’m not judging you.”

Bucky meets his eyes. “I figured you wouldn’t be into it.”

“Well I can’t be until I understand it,” Steve says bluntly. That seems to make Bucky shrink back some, so he adds, “I could be, I think, if I knew what it did for you.” Frankly, his own sadistic proclivities aside, Steve’s sexual preferences these days seem to all fall into the category of “if it gets Bucky hot, I probably have an erection too.” And Steve’s okay with that. He tells Bucky so, saying, “I think I could be into clown porn, Barnes, if I knew it got you off.”

Bucky snorts again, only this time it’s less sarcastic. He smiles a little. “Clown porn,” he echoes amusedly. “Christ, Rogers.”

“So,” Steve says, tone redirecting the conversation back on track. “It’s extreme restraint. More than anything we’ve done.”

“Yeah.” Bucky goes back to fiddling with his pasta while he listens.

“Immobilization,” Steve says, trying out the word and finding that, yeah, it fits. “And sensory deprivation. And…” he pauses, steeling himself for the really weird part that he can in _no way_ let Bucky think he finds weird. Everything they do is weird, to an extent. “The cock cages—that’s restriction too, and denial. But the videos had other forms of pleasure. You like that part too? The…” he licks his lips. “The electrodes and the sounding and stuff?” Steve doesn’t feel the need to expand. He knows what a tens unit is. “Buck?”

“Yeah, Steve,” Bucky says, and it’s terse; a quiet snap that says _goddamn you_. Steve doesn’t let that fly.

“Hey. _Look at me_.” It’s his Dom voice and Bucky’s whole body does that thing that’s somewhere between tensing up and perking up. His eyes shoot over, bigger than before. Steve tilts his head at him in warning. “I’m going to the effort of having this conversation with you, Buck. I’m communicating with you and you need to behave. Show a little appreciation.”

Bucky takes that in with slow blinks, then nods. “Okay. Sorry Steve.” He doesn’t say Sir, but that’s rare outside the playroom and it’s certainly not required. 

Steve settles back, satisfied. “Eat your food,” he directs, saying it so that Bucky can have an order to follow. More background noise. “The diapers,” he says, making sure _not_ to sound wary. “What’s that about? Age play?”

“Christ, no.” Bucky nearly drops his fork into his bowl. He glares at Steve but softens quickly when he remembers he’s supposed to be being good. “No, it’s not that,” he hedges. “It’s… it’s more like just another restriction. Another way of being out of control. Like the mitts. I’d be all tied up. Unable to move or see or hear. Unable to use my hands. And then eventually I’d just have to, you know, _go_.” He flushes and looks down. “And that’s how you’d deal with it, since I’m not allowed to get up.”

Steve thinks about that. “Okay,” he says. “So we’re talking extended play? Not just sex but… like you’d stay that way for longer?”

Bucky nods. “Yeah. I mean this isn’t a huge thing. We could just do it sometimes, but maybe make a day of it when we did? Like I’d be sort of tied up all day out here,” he gestures to the living room, the couch, “And then the more extreme stuff when you got me off.”

“And who’s supposed to get me off, huh?” Steve teases. 

Bucky smirks. “Well that’s for you to decide. You’re creative.” Steve laughs and Bucky adds, “And then in the evening you could keep me like that. Maybe all night, even.” He says it eagerly, like he’s hopeful.

“No hood at night, Buck,” Steve says sternly. Bucky still has nightmares occasionally and he’d hate to think of him waking up, terrified and hyperventilating with nothing but darkness and restricted airflow. “But the rest is fine.” Bucky looks at Steve with an undiminished blush and eyes that say that he thinks Steve is just goddamned unbelievable. _Too good to be true_ , he always says. “Humiliation?” Steve asks.

“Naw. Or like, not a lot. Some. It’s more like…” Bucky thinks hard about it. “Well yeah, humiliation I guess. Soft stuff like objectification. Or like you’re unconcerned about what I want.”

Steve smirks. “Okay, I get that. And all the rest? Does it make you feel safe?” He’s so far past thinking of things in terms of Hydra, of Bucky’s time with them. It used to be his compulsion; trying to find the similarities between things that Bucky liked and what Hydra had done to him and _what it could all mean_. But Bucky had told him ad nauseum, and Steve had figured out, that any explanation, if there was one, would be too confusing and unhelpful to be worth his time anyway. Bucky liked what he liked, and Steve had reached the point where he could give it to him without agonizing that _this was bad_. All he wants now is to get a vague concept as to _why_. “Buck?” he prompts again. “What’s it do for you?”

“It’s safety, yeah,” Bucky answers. “Quiet and relaxation. Being forced. Just… an extension of everything else we do I guess. Giving up responsibility, being hurt. Having no agency.”

Steve nods. “And it’d make you feel good?” He can see Bucky’s big eye roll at that question, but he gives him a pass on it. At least he’d refrained from saying _Duh_. “And the fact that you didn’t bring this up before?” Steve says. “You were embarrassed because why? Because you thought I wouldn’t like it?”

Bucky nods. “I thought you’d think it was weird.”

Steve snorts. “Buck, everything we do is weird.” This earns him a laugh and an easy look from Bucky, which makes Steve glad he said it. “Look: I know that forcing thoughts like that away is easier said than done, believe me I do. You know how hard some of my things have been for me.” Bucky’s expression softens even further at that, saying very clearly that _yeah_ , he does know, and _you’re a shy idiot Steve Rogers and I love you_. Steve smiles at him. “So, I’m going to say this and I want you to remember it: unless it involves children, animals, poop or… or clown porn,” Bucky barks out a laugh at that last, “then you don’t have to be embarrassed. Not on my account, at least. He looks at Bucky—deeply, meaningfully—and repeats what he’d said so long ago; “I saw it all Buck, and I’m not thinking one bad thing. I’m not gonna.”

Bucky looks at Steve like he _did_ hang the moon, and it’s game on. They’ve got some internet shopping to do.

.oOo.

The stuff arrives but Steve doesn’t tell Bucky about it. He assembles it all on the bed in the playroom and makes it a surprise for Bucky, who is understandably elated.

The first thing he’s denied is getting to play with it all. Steve fucks him in their bedroom that night, in the slowest, most vanilla fashion possible. He laughs at Bucky when he curses at him, and makes fun of him after for coming three times from such “boring, uninspired” sex.

The next morning Bucky wakes up to Steve handling his soft cock, maneuvering it into the plastic confines of the cock cage they’d ordered. Bucky’s firmed up enough to strain against the cage by the time Steve gets it all the way on, and it takes him a good while to calm down. Steve coos and comforts him in that way that he does that’s more mockery than sweetness. Bucky loves it.

After lunch Steve takes Bucky into the playroom and has him strip and kneel facing the wall while he goes about the room to decide what they’ll use until the night. He makes up his mind and gets a thorough amount of enjoyment from the way Bucky’s eyes light up when he’s told to turn around and observe. 

“Green,” Bucky says immediately, fast and unprompted. It makes Steve laugh.

“To everything?” He’s brought over the rubber straight jacket, a blindfold, a panel gag and the inflatable plug. Bucky looks at the items like they’re candy. 

“Yes,” he croaks. “Yeah, all of it.”

Steve hums. “Okay then. Stand up.” Bucky hurries to comply. “Palms on the wall and lean forward,” Steve instructs. “Spread your legs.” Bucky does, and Steve takes a short moment to appreciate the sight of him, naked and presented. He runs his hand down Bucky’s back, from nape to the top of his butt. Bucky shivers. “Gonna give you everything you need, Buck,” he says softly. “You’ve been so good, letting me have this with you. Gonna make you feel so good today. All you have to do is take it.”

Bucky moans, a quiet, private little sound, but Steve hears it. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Mm, you’re welcome.” Steve bends and picks up the bottle of lube he’s brought over. He squirts some onto his fingers and drops the bottle back to the floor. Inching closer to Bucky’s back, he whispers into his ear. “Gonna get that plug up inside you, pump it up so you feel nice and full, mkay?”

Again, Bucky makes a tiny noise that’s somewhere between a moan and a whimper. “Yes Sir.”

Steve rubs his fingers over Bucky’s hole, smearing the lube there and pressing against the muscle. “Open up for me, Buck,” he says, even though he knows he doesn’t have to tell him. Bucky’s already pressing back a little, and his body is just so used to being penetrated that he relaxes almost on instinct, rim softening quickly under Steve’s ministrations and accepting the first and then the second finger Steve presses into him with little trouble. He continues to breathe and huff little noises as Steve thrusts lightly, bumping his knuckles against his cheeks and curling just enough to find that spot inside him. 

Bucky whimpers at the first, true rub. “Oh, _Steve_ ,” he says. 

“Yeah?” Steve leans to press a light kiss to Bucky’s shoulder. “That feel good? When I rub you like that?”

“You know it does.”

“Hm, yeah. But you’ve never been in a cage for it before, have you? Never been all locked up. How’s that feel?”

Bucky groans. “Awful. Good.” He can’t see it, but Steve smiles at his back. 

“Yeah. I bet that’s real frustrating, huh?” he reaches around with his free hand and cups Bucky’s caged cock, feeling the plastic that’s warmed to body temperature from half a day’s use. “Getting all fat in there, but you can’t, not really. Can’t get hard.” Again, Bucky groans, and the sound is music to Steve’s ears. He pats the cage and pulls his hand away. “It’s too bad. You’ll just have to get used to it. I haven’t quite decided yet how long I’m going to keep you in there. Maybe a long time.”

Bucky whimpers, and if Steve didn’t know him so well he’d almost worry at the sound. Bucky’s hips tremble, pushing back against the fingers Steve’s still got inside of him. “Steve,” he says, voice pleading. 

“Shh, don’t worry doll,” Steve says. “I’ll give you plenty to keep your mind off it. Gonna fill you up real good.” And _god_ , but he wants for that to mean with his cock. He’s twitching in his pants right now, half-hard just from seeing Bucky like this, from treating him like this. Steve knows that he was right; he could be into anything if it got Bucky off. As it is, he just grinds the heel of his palm against his twitching dick, refusing to indulge in the idea of fucking into Bucky right now. That’s not what this is about. He bends down and picks up the plug, lubing it with his already-messy fingers. When he sets it against Bucky’s rim, he says, “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes. “Always.”

Steve pushes the plug in; it’s not hard to do. The thing is smaller than other ones they’ve played with. At least in this state. Steve grabs the bulb that’s attached to the thing by tubing and squeezes it once, then again. He sees the muscles in Bucky’s back move, shifting as he adjusts to the feel. “Gonna make it big,” Steve warns, then he pumps it again, and again, and once more. He knows from playing with the thing that it’s probably as big as it’ll get now, but he squeezes his fist once more just to be sure. Once he removes the attachment and Bucky is just left with the huge, inflated plug inside of him, Steve pats him cheerfully on the ass. Bucky releases a puff of breath.

“God, Steve.”

“Good?”

“Yeah.”

Steve hums. “Good. Here, turn around.” He guides Bucky by his shoulders until he’s facing him, then bends to pick up the freaky rubber monstrosity that is the straightjacket. He fixes Bucky with a wry look. “Alright pal, help me figure out this contraption.”

Bucky does.

.oOo.

Steve winds up having Bucky spend the afternoon all trussed up like that. He gags him, telling him blithely that he doesn’t want to be bothered with knowing he’s in the room. And even though that statement makes Bucky’s eyes shine in delight, Steve still knows that Bucky dislikes being gagged, so to make up for it he puts on _Ancient Aliens_ for him to watch. Bucky loves stupid stuff like that. 

They don’t do anything else that’s particularly odd. Steve gets some of his work done and at that point he relieves Bucky of his gag and blindfolds him and tells him he can kneel between his legs and keep his cock warm. It’s Steve’s own strange brand of self-denial, just keeping himself there, soft or mostly soft in Bucky’s mouth and focusing on his laptop instead of thrusting. Bucky’s glad to do it, Steve knows. He’s not using him as a footstool or anything like that, but he is using him; reducing him to an object. Steve tells Bucky that he’s not allowed to move, not allowed to pull away without being instructed to, even if he’s messy and drooling. So Bucky settles in with his mouth around Steve’s cock and his cheek resting on his thigh, arms held tight and snug around him and unable to move. Steve knows it’s fulfilling something within Bucky, like the plug. Filling some space in his mind that’s normally empty and wanting. Another hour, then two while away, Steve actually manages to get a fair amount of work done, and Bucky slips into that quiet place in his head that he enjoys so much. _Beautiful_ , Steve thinks, seeing Bucky calm between his legs. Just _being_. Bucky’s such a good boy, and he tells him so and pets his hair just to see the edges of his mouth tick in a faint smile around his cock. “So good for me,” he repeats.

.oOo.

Steve steps back from the table, grinning as he watches Bucky’s bound form squirm violently, once, twice, then panting and trembling, but obviously trying to calm down. Steve makes a sound in his throat, and even though he knows Bucky can’t hear, he steps back up and says, “Poor baby. Struggling so hard. Must be killing you.” 

Bucky is totally restrained. He’s naked atop the padded table in their playroom, strapped down at over a dozen points on his body so that he’s completely immobilized. He can wiggle, but even that’s a small thing. Steve’s left next to no slack in the straps. Bucky’s wearing a bondage hood that looks thick and mean and completely terrifying. It blocks out all sight, all sound, and though he _can_ technically breathe and talk and make noise behind the hood, it’s very muffled. His chest heaves from the effort it takes to control his breathing. Inside the mitts that encase his hands and prevent him from using even his fingers, Steve has given Bucky a remote to hold in his balled-up palm. It’s his out, his safeword for tonight; will trigger a little buzzer on Steve’s waistband to vibrate. Bucky hasn’t touched it at all. 

“Must be frustrating,” Steve murmurs. He lets his fingers trail over the cage that holds Bucky’s cock. It’s crueler-looking now than it was before, tighter and more constricting now that Bucky’s flesh has plumped up. Steve knows that’s because he’s replaced the plug in Bucky’s ass with a larger stimulator toy. It’s probably pressing right up against Bucky’s prostate right now, just like it’s supposed to do, and Steve’s been fucking around with the levels of vibration for close to going on thirty minutes. Bucky whimpers when Steve presses his fingers through the slots in the cage, touching the flesh of his swollen cock what little bit he can. “So, so frustrating.”

Steve himself is hard, is getting off on keeping Bucky totally restrained and frustrated and unable to do _anything_. He’s been saying dirty, sweet, mean things to Bucky off and on even though he can’t hear and Steve really wishes he could, because he _wants_ to taunt him. He’d love to see Bucky’s face squinch up in distress from it. 

Oh, well. Another time.

Steve ups the vibrations of the toy in Bucky’s ass another level, and he chuckles when tension zips back through Bucky again. Steve steps close, runs his hands soothingly up and down Bucky’s chest, over his pecs and shoulders, down to his belly and thighs. Bucky trembles at the touch, making barely-discernable noises of satisfaction behind the mask. Steve smiles. “Wish you could see me,” he says tenderly. He leaves Bucky, going over to the wall of organized gear and picking out the zapper and a finger vibrator. He grins evilly. _God_ , Bucky has made him into such a deviant. Steve places all the blame on him, all of it. He’ll maintain that to his grave.

Back by Bucky’s side (was he even aware that Steve had stepped away?), Steve slips the vibe on his finger and flicks it on. He brings it down to Bucky’s skin. Bucky jerks when he feels it, making another noise beneath the hood. “Hm, is that so?” Steve says, again, not for Bucky. It’s for himself and for the camera. He’s videotaping this, a camera on a stand not too far away, set up to capture the widest angle of what they’re doing. Steve hasn’t told Bucky about that. He wants to surprise him with it later, a little video of prime wanking material for Bucky to keep just for himself. Steve doesn’t ever plan on watching it—it’s part of his apology for having invaded Bucky’s privacy. 

Steve trails the vibe all the way down Bucky’s front, down his chest and belly and then right down to his caged cock. He holds it against the plastic and lets it vibrate there, and Bucky squirms hard, making muffled ‘mmph’ sounds into the hood. Steve allows it for a minute, watching him struggle, then he zaps him quickly on the inner thigh with the violet wand. It’s a pad-attachment; flared and flat on the end so that Steve can get him firmly in very specific locations. He grins at the groan that Bucky looses from the odd pain of the wand. “Yeah,” he murmurs, unheard. “I know you like that.” He zaps Bucky higher up on his thigh, dangerously close to his balls. They’re already pulled up taught to his body, shiny with the lube Steve had fondled them with earlier. Steve watches the flex and clench of Bucky’s muscles as he gets zapped in such a tender, vulnerable place. Steve taps the vibe against the cage, stimulating his dick while he wonders whether he should zap Bucky straight on the balls…

Maybe Bucky is thinking the same exact thing, because he whimpers and shivers, trying to hold very still under Steve’s scrutiny. Steve hums darkly. “I bet you can tell just where I’m looking right now, huh? I bet you can tell. You’re smart like that. Look at you,” he murmurs, “holding so still baby.” He taps the backs of his knuckles against Bucky’s tight sac. “Your balls are twitching. You scared of something, huh?” Steve laughs, holds the vibe tight against the cage and zaps Bucky lightning-fast on his balls. Bucky shrieks behind the hood. 

“Aw, aw was that bad baby?” Steve says. He’s really getting off too much on the sound of his own voice, he thinks. Beneath his own track pants, he’s rock hard. He presses his hips up against the side of the table, using the firm padding of it to get a little friction. Just a little. This isn’t about him, after all. Not right now. “God,” he astounds. “You look so pretty. Love you like this. I can just do anything I want to you, huh?” Bucky’s head lolls a little on the table, but it’s not in response to Steve, just him shifting, struggling under the onslaught of sensation. Steve pets the skin of his neck, brings his other hand down to between his legs and presses the prostate stimulator tighter against his body. Bucky groans and rocks down against it what little bit he can. Steve zaps him on the nipple. 

In the cage, Bucky’s bigger and redder than ever before. Steve works the toy against Bucky’s ass, the finger vibe on that hand touching Bucky’s balls at the same time. It’s the most pleasure he’s given Bucky yet, and Steve watches with a sense of fascination as Bucky’s angry, confined cock starts leaking copious amounts of precum, faster than he’s ever seen it do before. For a second, Steve thinks that Bucky’s actually coming, but the liquid is clear and it just keeps coming in little pulses. Steve stares. “Can you come like this Buck?” he asks, of course receiving no answer. “You think I can make you come with your cock soft like that?”

Bucky’s cock _isn’t_ soft, not really. It’s angry and full of blood, trying so hard to grow. But the cage they’d bought isn’t generous in the space it affords, and Bucky simply can’t become erect in it. It’s delightful to watch. Steve sets the zapper aside and takes the vibe in that hand instead. He pushes and rocks the stimulator against Bucky’s body with one hand and rubs the vibe over Bucky’s cage and his balls with the other hand. Bucky gets louder than he’s been the whole night, whining and grunting and most-likely crying beneath the leather hood. Steve works him hard and watches the way his body jerks and shivers. He’s morbidly curious to see if Bucky can come like this. 

“Come on, Buck,” he says, hands rubbing, pressing. “I know it feels good. Want to see you come, want to make it happen.” Bucky jerks and moans, as if he really can hear Steve’s dirty talk. “Gonna get it out of you,” Steve tells him. “Gonna make it just dribble right out. Bet it won’t even feel too good, at this point.” He digs the tip of the vibe between the holes in the cage, until it can actually touch the blood-red tip of Bucky’s cock. “Bet it’ll _hurt_.”

Bucky howls, body locking up, and a second later he comes. It’s the most gorgeous thing Steve’s seen in a long time and he watches, rapt, as thick, white cum bubbles out of Bucky’s cock, landing in weak spurts against his thighs and the table. “Oh, baby,” Steve breathes. “So good. That’s so fucking good.” He digs the vibe in once more, just to see Bucky writhe from the overstimulation, and then he pulls it away, taking the stimulator out of his body as well. Bucky whimpers at the loss, chest heaving harder than ever now that he’s come. Steve can only imagine how overwhelmed he must be feeling. He hurries to set the toys out of the way and come back to Bucky, petting up and over all the planes of his body, soothing him with touch. 

He waits long minutes, until Bucky’s breathing has calmed and his body relaxed somewhat, before he moves to take off the hood. It’s a vicious contraption with several locking mechanisms and it takes Steve a good two minutes to get it off. When he does, he sees that Bucky’s face is red and sweaty. And he was indeed crying. “Oh, baby,” Steve says, reaching automatically to swipe tears out from under Bucky’s eyes. “Hey, hey, you’re okay.” He bends down and kisses him right on the mouth, tongue slipping in to roll, messy and wet. He pulls back. Bucky is blinking his eyes at him, looking fuck-dazed and happy. “You okay?” Steve asks, voice terribly quiet now that he knows Bucky can hear him. His ears are probably extra sensitive now, after so long in the quiet. “Hm?”

Bucky nods a little, smiling in the same fucked-out way. “Yeah Stevie. Yeah. M’good. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome baby,” Steve says. He pets at Bucky’s face. “You ready to get unstrapped? Get over to the bed?” 

Bucky closes his eyes and hums happily. “Yeah,” he says.

Steve gets to work unstrapping him, each buckle taking time. Bucky just lays silently with his eyes closed, serene expression on his face. Steve feels pride well up in himself at that expression. _He_ did that. He put that look there, made Bucky feel good. 

That’s all Steve ever wants, is to make him feel good.

.oOo.

Bucky’s so out of it that when Steve gets him up off the table and towards the bed, he doesn’t even notice the tripod with the camera on it. He just leans heavily on Steve’s side and lets him guide him to the bed and sit him down on it. Steve stands beside the bed and pushes Bucky so that he’s laying back, his legs hung over the side and feet on the floor. Steve takes ahold of himself, jerks off onto Bucky’s chest and splatters him with come. Bucky smiles lazily up at him when he does. “You’re so pretty,” Steve tells him, rubbing the mess in indulgent, nasty swirls. Like a painting. “Should make you sleep with it. Just let it get all crusty and itchy.”

“You’re so gross,” Bucky says, partly because it’s true and partly because he knows it’ll earn him a nice smack across the cheek. It does, and Bucky smiles dreamily from it. Steve goes to the moist towel warmer that sits atop the minifridge and grabs a washcloth to wipe up the mess. By the time he’s finished, Bucky’s regained enough of himself to notice the camera that’s propped up in the room. “Fuck, Steve,” he groans. “You filmed it?”

“Uh huh.”

“The whole thing?” Bucky’s eyes are dark and hot, and Steve thinks that if Bucky weren’t in the cage right now, he’d probably start angling for more sex. “God, that’s hot,” he says. He looks up at Steve. “Can we watch it?” 

“You can,” Steve says, stepping back and tossing the soiled washcloth away. “It’s just for you.” He fixes Bucky with a meaningful look. “Private.”

Bucky’s expression shows that he understands the apology. “Kay,” he says, voice small. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome baby.” Steve is moving, gathering what he needs for what comes next. He pushes Bucky to lay flat on the bed again, then lubes up another plug—this one just standard. Bucky parts his legs obediently for Steve to push it into his body, making no sound as it settles in him. “How’s that feel?” Steve asks.

“Mm, good.” Bucky squirms a little, stimulating himself with it. “This thing doesn’t vibrate, does it?”

Steve chuckles. “No baby. I’m gonna let you get a good night’s sleep.”

Bucky pouts as if that’s no fun, and Steve pinches him fondly on the inner thigh. “We can play with one of those another day.” He pulls forward the other item he’s gotten. It crinkles in his hand, odd and thick and, yeah, Steve can see how Bucky would’ve been too embarrassed to come forward to Steve about this. He holds the diaper where Bucky can see it. “You want to put it on or you want me to?” Bucky’s already said this has nothing to do with age play, so Steve isn’t sure.

“I can,” Bucky says shyly. It’s one of the few times Steve’s ever seen him look truly embarrassed in the play room. 

Steve steps back and gives Bucky space to put the diaper on, but he doesn’t look away. He watches him do it, and Steve knows that that’s part of why the blush on Bucky’s face spreads down to his neck. Steve smirks. “Jeeze, Buck. You’re as red as a tomato.” Bucky grumbles something to that, but otherwise remains silent. He shifts in place once he’s got the diaper on. “How’s that feel?” Steve asks, stepping close again, up until he’s between the spread of Bucky’s thighs. He reaches down and places his hand on the front of the diaper, pressing against the padding to feel the bulge of the cage beneath. Bucky squirms.

“S’fine. Weird.”

“Good weird or bad weird?”

Bucky presses his face into the bedding. “Good.”

“Hm, thought so.”’ Steve stares down at him, enjoying his embarrassment. “You know, you actually look kind of cute like this.” Bucky groans and Steve laughs. “Or maybe kind of stupid. I’m not sure which.”

“Christ, Steve, you’re gonna kill me.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Steve asks, smirking because they both know the answer to that question. “Now if you have to piss all night you can’t. You’ll just have to go in your diaper and stay that way till morning.” Bucky whimpers and Steve shushes him. He goes and gets the sleep sack that they’d ordered. Bucky shifts restlessly when he sees it. It’s basically kind of like a sleeping bag, only tighter, more restricting. Steve gets Bucky in it and once all of the restraints to the thing are done up and the only part of Bucky he can see is his head, he says, “You know, I kind of think the vibrating plug would’ve been a good idea now. It’d be fun to watch you wiggle and squirm in that thing.”

Bucky groans. “Well you _could’ve_ , genius. I _said_ —”

Steve shuts him up with a kiss, making sure to get deep in Bucky’s mouth, wet and needy. Bucky whimpers when he pulls back and ends it. “Hush,” Steve says. “I don’t think you’re in any position to sass me right now, do you?”

Bucky looks incredibly pleased at that fact, and he shakes his head. “No, Sir.”

“Mm, that’s what I thought.” Steve kisses him again, lightly this time, before settling in next to Bucky’s bound form. He stretches to turn off the light and then they’re left with only the light of the moon shining through the room’s windows. They’ve never made a habit out of sleeping in the playroom, but the bed is very comfortable and Steve thinks that it works best for this. He cuddles up against Bucky, who’s on his back, immobile and still. “I love you, Buck,” he says quietly, closing his eyes. “You comfortable?” he asks, already sure that the answer is yes.

Bucky hums and rubs his head against Steve’s, breath already slowing down for sleep. “Mmhm,” he says, completely relaxed. “Snug as a bug.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Totally, Completely [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17092829) by [sarahyellow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyellow/pseuds/sarahyellow)




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